


Coruscant High

by Darth_Videtur



Series: Completely Unrelated Alternate Universes - A Compilation [4]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen, High school is ridiculously dramatic, M/M, Midichlorians and Hormones and Aliens oh my..., Multi, Professors are the exceptions, Star Wars characters all the same general age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Videtur/pseuds/Darth_Videtur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a galaxy far, far away in an alternate dimension, the dormant Force is a forgotten memory to all but the most ancient of minds. And in this universe, all Anakin Skywalker wants to do is survive his new high school on Coruscant. Pairings will be many and highly fluid. This is high school, after all. T for language and romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Coruscant High, Kid

“Anakin Skywalker.” 

Anakin jerked his shaggy head up and stared at the secretary who had called his name. “Uh, that’s me.”   
“Headmaster Valorum is ready to see you now,” the Rodian’s face was pinched with disapproval, probably because she was the one who had to complete his transfer paperwork after the school year had already started. Anakin made a note to avoid this one. He sensed trouble. 

“Yes ma’am, thank you,” he stood from the chair that was much too large and followed her pointing finger down the stark white hallway. Coruscant was a scary enough place for a fresh-faced kid from backwater Tatooine, but this high school was even more intimidating. Nearly every student he had seen was dressed in the finest robes and carrying the latest tech. He clutched the old tomes tighter to his chest as he neared the open doorway. 

Everything was so clean and dust-free. No sand in sight. A cough startled him out of studying the gleaming doorframe. “Mr. Skywalker?” 

“Yes, sir,” Anakin stepped inside at the older man’s beckoning. The headmaster was tall and grey-haired, with a stern face that filled Anakin with foreboding. This wouldn’t be a good man to land on the wrong side of. He tried to smile. 

Headmaster Finis Valorum smiled back, and the sternness dissipated somewhat. Not enough. “Have a seat, young man. I have your schedule here.” 

When Anakin had settled into the white chair (why was everything white?), the headmaster settled back in his own seat and pulled up an interactive display over the desk’s surface. “Your grades from the previous year on Tatooine are standard, Mr. Skywalker. I hope you realize that here at Coruscant High, we expect more than standard performances from our students.” 

Anakin bobbed his head. “Yes, sir, I plan to study very hard.”

Valorum leaned forward, raising both eyebrows. “I hope you also understand that even though you are here on an athletic scholarship, we expect no less from you academically than any other student.” 

“Absolutely,” Anakin nodded. “Sir.” 

“Well then,” the man sighed and flicked a new image onto the display with a stout finger. “Your first class of the day is Applied Starship Mechanics. I’ll take you that direction.” 

Anakin stood up quickly when he did and followed the headmaster out of the room. They passed the secretary, who looked down her long face at him like she smelled something bad. Anakin took a deep breath and hurried after Valorum. 

They moved down several long hallways and rounded one corner at a brisk clip, and Valorum stopped. Anakin nearly ran into the back of him and sidestepped just in time. He looked ahead and spotted two figures locked in a tight embrace in one of the shadowed edges of the hallway. 

“Mr. Palpatine, kindly remove your tongue from Mr. Amedda’s mouth,” Valorum sighed. “Or is it the other way around?” 

Anakin giggled, a high pitched and nervous sound, and slapped his hand over his mouth as the boy in question pulled away from the bright green-flushing humanoid and looked back at the new arrivals. Unlike his companion, Palpatine didn’t seem alarmed in the slightest. He smiled easily, revealing faintly crooked white teeth under a pair of almost colorless blue eyes. 

“Headmaster Valorum, I thought you were meeting with the Board today.” 

“Young man, how do you know what my schedule - ” Valorum stopped. “You know what? Nevermind. Don’t you have a class to get to?” 

“I might,” his thin lips turned up at one corner, and he glanced at Anakin. Curiosity flashed in the pale depths, a look that speared Anakin to the floor, then he was sauntering away down the hall, his long arms swinging easily at his sides. Valorum watched him go, and Anakin had never seen such an expression before: exasperation and pride mingling together. 

“Brilliant boy, and entirely too ambitious,” Valorum stroked his chin and seemed to realize something. “Mas, don’t you have Applied Starship Mechanics this hour?” 

Mas was slowly returning to his normal sky blue color, but the horns of his lethorns still twitched nervously, and he shifted from shiny boot to boot. “Yes, Headmaster.” 

“Good. We can talk about being in the halls during class time later. Will you please escort Mr. Skywalker there? He is a new student in our school.” Without waiting for a response, Valorum turned to Anakin and smiled an empty smile. He was already thinking of something else. “I look forward to seeing you around our halls, young Anakin.”

“Um, same to..you, sir?” Anakin said to the long back retreating up the hallway. Valorum didn’t seem to hear his whimpered response, but Mas pointed at his books.

“You need help carrying those?” 

“No thanks, I think I can manage.” Anakin fell into step beside the other, taller boy, shifting the stack in his hands.

Mas studied him openly. “You know, it’s really weird seeing someone carrying traditional books around. Don’t you have any flimsipads?” 

“Uh, no I,” Anakin swallowed, suddenly embarrassed. Of course they would notice he was different right away, too poor to even afford real school supplies. “My scholarship only covered my tuition,” he finished in a mumbled rush at the floor. His hopes shattered on the gleaming white floor. 

Mas’s cold amphibious eyes regarded him, unblinking. “Okay, you might want to think about getting a bag, though.”

Anakin stared. The Chagrian still wasn’t looking down his nose at him or laughing at him. He cracked a smile. “Yeah, I guess I should.” 

The Chagrian paused, and then added, “I’m Mas Amedda, 3rd year.” Mas extended a slightly moist hand, and Anakin shook it enthusiastically. 

“I’m Anakin Skywalker, 2nd year.”

“Welcome to Coruscant High.” Mas nudged him into the next hall over, a smaller passage lined with doors of many sizes and shapes. “Here’s a shortcut.”

Anakin boggled at one of the doors, transparent and revealing a bubbling wall of water behind it. “What is this?” he asked, trying and failing to see into the murky room. 

“This is the wing for non-standard students,” Mas pointed. “That’s for the ones who can’t live out of water. They have their own private campus entries and everything.” 

“I’ve never seen so many different species,” Anakin admitted. “On Tatooine, it was mostly Dugs and Jawas and Tusken Raiders.” 

Mas paused in the hallway and turned to look at him, a long black forked tongue suddenly flicking out and tasting the air. Later Anakin would learn that this meant he was either surprised or perturbed. “You come from Tatooine?”

“Yeah, wizard, huh?” He hoped the humanoid would get his sarcasm. 

“You know any Hutts?”

Anakin scoffed. “Those slimos? Everyone on Tatooine knows them. They run the place.”

Mas smirked. “You’d get along well with Palpatine. Ever since the little slug Jabba ratted him out at his last private school, he’s hated their slimy guts.” 

Anakin hesitated. “Palpatine… He was, back there?” He remembered the faintly dismissive eyes, the cool appraisal, like the older boy had been able to peer into his soul in one glance. He also remembered what Palpatine had been doing, and he felt his cheeks burning. 

Mas nodded, flushing a faint green. “Yeah, we’re together right now, but sometimes I get the feeling he only puts up with me for my spot in the Student Senate.” He sighed. “Nobody’s supposed to know, but everyone does. He’s exciting, and I think I’ve in love, but he’s flighty, you know what I mean?”

Anakin didn’t, and the conversation was making him very nervous, but he nodded like he knew. “You bet.” 

Mas steered him down yet another hall, and Anakin was getting completely lost. The Chagrian shrugged as they walked. “As long as I stay one Senate procedure ahead of him, I should be good.” 

Oh. All this talk of politics had Anakin worried. Was this one of those schools, where everyone obsessed over who got to run the circus? He wasn’t very good at politics. Really, all he wanted was a chance to get on the racing team. 

“Here we are,” Mas announced as they rounded a final, bright green door. Just beyond, the room was filled with younglings of all shapes and sizes, huddling over welding tools and tortured pieces of metal that Anakin faintly recognized as starship parts. “You’re in luck, it’s a lab today.” 

Anakin felt the worry slide away. This, he could do.


	2. Oh, Brother...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin runs into some unsavory characters in gym class, his second class of the day.

By the end of the lab, Anakin thought he had a new friend. Mas was a worrier and a gossip, but he hadn’t once belittled Anakin. In fact, he had insisted that Anakin be his partner when the rest of the room was still eyeing his slightly wrinkled (but clean!) robes with suspicion. The only other person who didn’t look at him like produce was the teacher, Mr. Jango Fett. He looked at him like one looked at roadkill. 

It was also nice to run into someone taller than he was. Anakin had sprouted like a Tusken-weed in the last year, brushing past 1.8 meters a month before leaving for Coruscant. His mother was proud; he was embarrassed because few other sixteen-year-old humans were anywhere near his height. But here on Coruscant, dozens of species were just as tall or taller than he was. 

After the lab wrapped up, Anakin made his way through a winding maze of hallways until he found his next class, physical education with a Professor Grievous. The name wasn’t very comforting, he thought as he stepped into the massive room that echoed with the laughs and grunts of over a dozen younglings galloping around the outer edge in a jumble of flailing arms and tentacles. Nearly two dozen more spread out across the equipment in the rest of the gymnasium. 

Anakin took a deep breath and edged his way toward a hulking, mechanical shape that hovered over six puffing second years struggling through a series of pull-ups on the bars. “You call this trying?” he heard the grating voice rumble. “This is pitiful.” 

Anakin winced. This was not going to be easy. He eased closer and cleared his throat. “Um, excuse me, Professor Grievous.” 

The cyborg whirled, claws clicking on the smooth floor. His golden eyes glared down at the boy. “Who are you?”

“I’m a new student…Anakin Skywalker, sir.” Anakin wanted to sink into the floor. Most of the students on the bars had stopped their efforts to watch the new slaughter. They were probably happy the coach had found a new victim. 

Grievous hacked out a harsh bark. “You’re late.”

“I, uh, it’s a big school…” Anakin gulped as the massive alien stepped closer. How could someone without a mouth have such bad breath? 

“You come late to my class again, Mr. Skywalker, and your name is Mud.”

Anakin stared blankly. I’m doomed, he thought. “It won’t ever happen again, sir.” 

Grievous laughed, and hacked some more, nearly bending over double. When he straightened, he radiated satisfied pleasure. “No, it won’t, Mr. Skywalker. Go warm up on the stretch mats. Try to keep up with the rest of us.” He stalked away, clanking every step. Anakin watched him go and sighed. 

He looked around the room and spotted the stretch mats beside the electro-magnetic weightlifting machines, on which a couple students were testing their biceps. Anakin sank slowly onto the mat and stretched his legs out in front of him. He had only touched his boots three times before a low chuckle sounded behind him. Anakin turned quickly and surged to his feet. 

The other student was huge, absolutely massive. His shoulders were almost twice as wide as Anakin’s, his face strong and thick and covered in a scary mess of yellow and black tattoos. Worse than that, large horns circled his head. Anakin had never seen such a thing before, and he shoved his jaw into place. 

He didn’t have to wait long. “You new here?” the humanoid rumbled, sounding almost angry. 

Anakin tensed. “Yeah, nice to meet you,…?” 

“I ain’t so sure,” he growled. “Anyone told you about the pecking order around here yet, kid?” 

I’m the same age as you, Anakin wanted to protest. Nature just balanced my brains and brawn better. He didn’t dare say it out loud. “Not yet,” he hedged, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a second, smaller alien of the same species appeared behind the larger one. This one sported similar tattoos, only red and black. He looked even meaner, however that was possible. 

“Now’s your chance to learn,” he sneered, voice like a whispering knife blade. 

Anakin glanced behind him for the professor. Grievous stood halfway across the room bellowing at a helpless 2nd year girl who looked close to tears. No help there. He turned back and nodded at the two boys. “I think I get your meaning well enough.” 

The smaller one, shorter than Anakin by several centimeters, bared his blackened teeth in a grimacing mockery of a smile. He would have looked more at home in the bottom of Coruscant than in this elite school. “Maybe, maybe not. Maybe I should let Savage here give you a crash course to make sure.” 

Anakin glanced up at the larger boy. There was no way he could fight him and hope to win, but that didn’t stop his shoulders from stiffening and his eyes from darting between the two as he weighed his options. Not on my first day of school, he mourned even while the larger boy lightly pounded his two meaty fists together. 

Would they send his remains home? Maybe he could get away, a quick jab at the eyes always seemed to work back on Tatooine in the alleyways. 

“Hey boys, what’s up?” the voice was a purr, and hands draped themselves over Anakin’s shoulders, long grey-white hands. Feminine hands. Anakin quickly shrugged them off and turned to face the newcomer. She was…unique. Her pale head was completely bald, and dark tattoos ran from each corner of her mouth to under her sharp chin. Bright blue eyes twinkled at him, standing out in her stark face. 

Slinky. Dangerous. Anakin swallowed. And strangely beautiful. He couldn’t help it as he noticed the tight cling of her bodysuit. She grinned when she spotted him looking. “Well, isn’t this a tasty new morsel?” 

“He’s not your type, Asajj,” Maul smirked. 

Asajj circled Anakin and tossed a glare at the humanoid. “You might know more than your brother, Maul, but that’s really not saying much.” She turned to Anakin. “Come on, handsome, let’s leave these creeps in the dust.” 

Anakin followed her across the gym to the pack of second years waiting for Grievous’s next command. Maul and Savage remained by the weights, their eyes glaring into Anakin’s back. “Uh, thanks, I guess. I didn’t really wanna level those guys on my first day here.” 

Her laugh rang out. “Don’t kid yourself. They would have stomped you into the next galaxy, Skywalker.” 

“How do you know who I am?” Anakin looked at her in surprise. 

She shrugged. “News travels fast.” 

“Can I know your name?” 

Her eyes widened. Oh great, she was amused by him, but she answered anyway, “Asajj Ventress. Don’t break my heart and forget me.” 

“I won’t,” he swore and tried to smile. “How do you know those weirdos?”

She punched him playfully in the gut and left him wheezing for air. “Hey, just ‘cause I saved you from being turned into raw Tauntaun doesn’t mean we’re buddies. Watch your step around here, desert rat. You’re playing in the big leagues now.” 

She chuckled and moseyed away toward the gathered younglings, wide hips swinging with each step. Anakin watched her go, fascinated in spite of himself. Finally he dragged his eyes away and moved after her. His first day in school, and already he’d met two thugs and a femme fatale in gym class. And a genocidal coach, judging by the scathing comments Grievous was blasting across the room. 

Anakin put his head down and quickened his pace. He fell into the middle of the pack of 2nd years just as Grievous sent them all on a new series of laps around the track. Anakin welcomed the distracting burn of muscle as he ran. He would be happy if he could simply go unnoticed in this class, but a sinking feeling told him his wish wouldn’t be granted. 

Especially not when he sneaked a peek across the gymnasium and realized that Maul and Savage were still watching him.


	3. Twitterpated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin makes it to lunch and discovers a new batch of people. Maybe this time, they’ll be friendlier.

His last two classes before lunch had been unremarkable, thankfully. Intergalactic Literature, taught by a tall, silver-haired nobleman who demanded that his students call him Count Dooku, had been difficult to get excited about. Anakin preferred to live adventure stories, not read about them. But the class was unique for the fact that it was made of 2nd, 3rd, and 4th years. Anakin was relieved to see nothing of Maul and Savage, but disappointed that he could find no one familiar either. Count Dooku required them to read the beginnings of an old Serenno play, and he assigned a paper for the next week. The older students seemed unsurprised, and Anakin resigned himself to a long year of agonizing writing. 

The fourth class, Financial Intelligence, held even less promise. The class was huge, composed of rowdy 2nd and 3rd years, at least until the teacher walked in, an impressively tall and thin alien. Anakin later learned he was a Muun, and the older students respectfully called him Magister Damask. The teacher eyed everyone with his beady gaze until each student’s head dropped and the room became completely silent. The rest of the class sailed smoothly along, and the drone of the tall alien’s voice nearly put Anakin to sleep. Thankfully, a friendly 3rd year by the name of Bail Organa prodded him back into awareness before Magister Damask noticed. 

Lunchtime arrived, and the school’s cafeteria stretched well over two hundred meters. Anakin quickly found himself lost in the swell of chattering, laughing students. He managed to carve a small niche at one of the long tables in the back, nestled between a pack of half-drugged out Togrutas and five glowering Yinchorri youth, dressed in shades of black and various body piercings. 

Anakin was halfway through his meal when his day permanently changed.

“Hey, you should come sit with us,” a warm voice said right above his shoulder. Anakin looked up from his roasted quadduck. The speaker was a boy, long and strong. He looked like a shockball player, all natural grace and endless limbs. Anakin stared in spite of himself.

The boy grinned, straight white teeth under a pair of blue eyes and a shock of ginger-blond hair. He stuck out a hand. “I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi. You must be Anakin Skywalker, the new student.” 

Anakin thought of Ventress. “News travels fast,” he borrowed her line and took the hand, which gripped his own firmly and then fell away. 

“Come on, I’ll help you with your tray,” Obi-Wan reached down and scooped up his salad plate and drink and breezed down the crowded cafeteria aisle. Anakin hurriedly gathered up the rest of his food and plunged after him.

Three tables later, Obi-Wan stopped in front of a small group of six other students, four boys and two girls, all beautiful and perfectly dressed in the latest styles. “Hey people, we’ve got company,” he clapped Anakin on the shoulder. “Make some room.”

They shifted and made a space for him and Obi-Wan between two of the older boys. The one on his right smiled, the barest hint of a beard and mustache forming on and under his lips. Anakin realized with a start that he had been in his Literature class. His eyes were gentle and kind. “I’m Qui-Gon Jinn, 4th year,” he said, and motioned to the other side. “That’s Mace Windu, 4th year, Kit Fisto and Aayla Secura, 2nd years, Quinlan Vos, 3rd year, and Padme Amidala, 2nd year.” 

Anakin had been nodding to each in turn, the dark-skinned human, the green Nautolean, the blue Twi’lek, a human (he thought) with a yellow stripe on his nose, and then he saw her. She was small, and very, very beautiful. 

Wow. Um…

He swallowed, and coughed when Obi-Wan whacked his shoulder playfully. “This is Anakin Skywalker, the new 2nd year. He’s from Tatooine.” 

They looked more closely at him, and Kit Fisto finally piped up, “Is it true that Tatooine used to allow slavery?” 

“Yeah, my grandparents were slaves,” Anakin watched the eyes of all the others at the table grow huge in response. The table got very quiet, and he suddenly regretted acting so nonchalant about it. Stick a Tatooine tumbleweed in his mouth and call him a backwater boy…

“That’s so barbaric!” Padme shuddered and speared the leafy green vegetable on the edge of her tray. “On Naboo we wouldn’t stand for it.” 

“On Naboo, you don’t stand for anything,” Obi-Wan teased her. “You pacifists.” 

She squealed and made to slap him across the table. He ducked with a short bark of laughter, and Anakin envied their closeness. They had grown up completely normal, probably never seriously thought about slaves once in their lives until now. 

He cleared his throat, desperate to change the subject. “So… Have you all been coming here since Year One?”

“Pretty much,” Mace Windu studied him openly, and his dark brown eyes narrowed. “What brings you to Coruscant from Tatooine, Anakin?”

Anakin felt dissected by the much older boy. He didn’t like it, and he tried to tell himself not to judge prematurely. But he got the feeling Mace didn’t like him very much, for some odd reason. “Uh, I won a, a shockball scholarship from the Coruscant Planetary League.” 

“Oh! Obi-Wan’s shockball captain this year,” Padme exclaimed, her eyes lingering on the young athlete’s broad shoulders as he downed his food, her hands wrapping around herself. “He beat out mean old Sarcev Quest and half a dozen others. I guess you’ll be working with him.” 

Obi-Wan grinned broadly. “I’m not actually that good. I’m just good at faking it.” 

She laughed. 

Anakin felt the twinge of jealously long before he was ready. She liked him, really liked him. He could tell by the dreamy buzz in her voice and the way she watched Obi-Wan when he wasn’t looking. 

He didn’t have the right to feel this way. He barely knew her. 

But he did. 

And someone beside him must have sensed it. “Oh, don’t even try,” Obi-Wan laughed. “She was the Festival Queen last year, and we’ve never lived it down.” 

“What about this year?” Anakin smiled shyly at her, aware that his whole face felt like a solid sheet of flames. Probably looked like it too. So much for keeping cool…

Padme shook her head. “I’m not guaranteed a win. There’s a new girl, Ahsoka Tano. Togruta. She’s got it in all the right places.” Kit whistled, and Aayla shoved him, her blue skin flushing purple with disapproval.

Qui-Gon stuffed another nura cake down his mouth and grinned, the crumbs dripping from his barely-there scruff of a beard. “Hey, looks aren’t everything, Your Majesty. Personality counts too.” 

Padme scowled. “She’s ‘spunky,’ Qui-Gon. How am I supposed to win against spunky?” 

“You’re fiery,” Obi-Wan said. He reached across Anakin for the red sauce and dumped it over his briddlings. “Just start talking about refugees or income inequality or something like that, and you’re golden.” He paused, a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Of course, if all else fails, just tell everyone you’re pals with Palpatine.” 

Padme groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I’m not going to abuse him like that.”

“You know Palpatine?” Anakin asked before he could stop himself. 

“The better question is how you know him already,” Kit looked at him, faintly amused. “They’re from the same neck of the galaxy, Naboo.”

“She adores him,” Obi-Wan chuckled. 

“I do NOT!” Padme growled. “We’re good friends, that’s all. He helps me with my classwork, and he’s one of the few who actually listens to me in Senate.”

Obi-Wan adopted a high falsetto. “’Oh, Obi-Wan, he’s so smart, he knows everything!’” He winked at Anakin, who dropped his fork, startled. 

Padme’s face had gone scarlet with embarrassment. “It was a first year crush, Obi-Wan. I’m over it. And he was never anything but a gentleman.” 

“Yeah, you never stood a chance against Mas,” Kit laughed, and Anakin thought of the scene in the hallway several hours ago and coughed on his bite of food. Qui-Gon pounded him cheerfully on the back. 

“Do you think he’ll run for King?” Aayla asked, poking at her food with one long blue finger. Her head-tails twitched and curled around her neck from the noise in the cafeteria. 

“He didn’t last year, and I don’t think he will this year either,” Padme said. She turned to Anakin to explain, “I think he wants to focus on his career. He won student body chancellor last year, the youngest ever elected. Everyone loves him.”

“Not everyone,” Mace countered. “I don’t trust him. A goody two shoes like that is trouble. And some people say he isn’t that good when no one’s looking.” Anakin stared down at his food. 

“Oh, Mace,” Obi-Wan grinned. “Gloom and doom and despair, let up, will you? Anakin doesn’t need to discover all our dirty laundry on his first day here.” He turned back and shined a full smile on the newcomer. “Right?”

Anakin’s heart skipped a beat. “Right,” he managed to nod. 

The first class bell rang with a startling intensity, and everyone at the tables rose in unison, jostling and shoving to get to the depositors. As Anakin dumped his tray, Padme reached out and took his arm. 

“Here,” she called over the ruckus, “I’ll take you to your next class.” 

He was willing enough. A huge, goofy grin spread across his face as she pulled him forward. 

“Hey, can I call you Ani? It would be so much easier,” Padme grinned at him, and he nodded, lost in the softness of her kind brown eyes. 

Call me anything you want, as long as you keep doing it, he thought.


	4. The Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philosophy never looked so good to Anakin Skywalker.

As it turned out, they had the next class of the day together. Anakin promptly forgot about his experience in gym class and thanked whatever gods existed on Coruscant. He tried to hide his excitement from Padme though, because he wanted her to see his maturity, his calm control. Oh, who was he kidding? He’d crawl down the hallway – every hallway – for a chance with her. 

Padme was goodhearted, Anakin could tell almost instantly. It showed in the way she greeted every student she passed, in the smiles she gave out so freely. He followed her into the fifth classroom and sank into the seat beside her, blushing as he put his heavy books on the desk. The rest of the classroom quickly filled in with students, and Anakin spotted Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon by the door. They waved at him. 

Anakin kept looking. He saw Asajj in the far back left corner, glowering at a small communication pad in her hands, and she didn’t look up. He didn’t know why, but he looked for Palpatine too and couldn’t find him. Feeling strangely disappointed, Anakin sank back in his seat and glanced at the front of the room. 

The philosophy teacher must be late. No one stood beside the large wooden desk (what a strange choice for such a modern school). 

“Look far enough, you did not.”

“Aaahhh!” Anakin shouted and jerked sideways in his seat at the sudden appearance of a small green alien at his side, not much higher than his knees. Huge ears filled with tufted white hair flicked forward on the small head. The creature’s eyes, large and green, regarded him with open amusement. 

“In this class, learn to look before you ask, you will,” it chuckled and tapped a gnarled wooden cane on the gleaming white floor. 

Beside him, Padme laughed. “Master Yoda, isn’t it against the rules to frighten your students?”

“Hm, Miss Padme? Not so good, my hearing these days,” Master Yoda smiled warmly at her, his wide lips crinkling into a thousand wrinkles. How old is he? Anakin wondered. 

The old alien puttered up the aisle until he reached the front and turned, leaning heavily on his cane. “To class, welcome to another day are all of you,” he intoned. “Philosophy in a galaxy, hard to find the truth it is. Agree, do you?”

No one in the class dared to raise their hands for a moment, as they all mentally rearranged the question in their minds. Finally Qui-Gon lazily raised his large hand. “I think in a galaxy of this size, it might be hard to say something is true for everyone.” 

“Hard, yes,” Yoda chuckled, the sound like creaky ice scraping across a speeder’s windshield, “but impossible?” 

No one answered. Anakin slid a little further down in his seat when Yoda’s gaze passed over to him. This was too much for his first day; didn’t the teacher know he was new? 

Yoda smiled. “Much fear, I sense in all of you. Afraid to give the wrong answer. But do wrong answers exist?” 

Padme chewed on her lip and finally slipped her hand up. “Absolutely they do, Master Yoda. There is right and wrong in this galaxy. I know, I’ve helped my parents with the refugees on our planet. Every day, wrong things happen to decent people all over the galaxy.”

Anakin sat up a little straighter, captivated by her sudden fire, her passion for everything. And he agreed with her. It was wrong how some people could coast through life without a care, and others had to scrape by to survive. He thought of his mother, aged prematurely by years of hard labor just to feed her family. I should com her tonight. 

Asajj spoke up from the back of the room, her silky voice mocking. “Or maybe that’s just the way of the universe, dearie. Eat or be eaten. The natural order of things.”

“Yeah,” a thin sliver of a human boy with shaggy dark hair added. “And who’s to say those refugees hadn’t done a bad turn to someone else before? Maybe it’s the universe’s way of payback.” 

Obi-Wan scowled, the look surprisingly out of place on his perfectly spaced features. “And maybe this class is the universe’s way of proving you don’t know what empathy is, Sate.” 

Sate’s beady dark eyes flared. “Aw, the sheltered little rich boy from Stewjon thinks he knows about the woes of the galaxy.” 

“Enough, that is,” Yoda, who had been calmly watching, now roused himself with a low rumble, and Sate instantly stopped speaking. His shifty eyes flicked from Padme back to Obi-Wan as he sank into his seat. Anakin noticed that Obi-Wan never took his own gaze away from the smaller boy, and the look in those blue eyes was stunning. His left hand had bunched loosely into a fist. 

I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side. 

The rest of the class passed without issue. Yoda arranged them into groups of four and requested that each group determine working definitions for right and wrong. Anakin was elated when Padme asked him to join her, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon. He didn’t say much, but just the feeling of being surrounded, accepted, and wanted was enough for him. 

He was making friends. Maybe this school wouldn’t be so bad after all.   
Obi-Wan jostled his arm as he reached for Padme’s datapad. “Sorry,” he grinned at Anakin. “So, you like it here so far?” 

He heard Asajj laugh and thought back to gym class and winced. Obi-Wan noticed and leaned closer. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Anakin hedged. “It’s just the school is so big. Back on Tatooine, our school was a hundred students, tops. Here…” 

“Six thousand seventy-three,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “And three campuses to hold us all. No wonder you look like a lost baby rugger. Don’t worry, you pick it up very quickly.” 

His confidence was catching. Anakin smiled back and nodded, and then Master Yoda was calling the class back to order to share their discoveries. Just before he moved reluctantly back to his seat, Qui-Gon laid a broad hand on his shoulder. “Anakin, you should join us after school when you’ve settled in a bit. I think you’d enjoy our little philosophy club.” 

Anakin paused, confused. No one had ever mistaken him for that kind of student before. He smiled nervously and stalled for time. “A philosophy club?” 

“Yep,” Obi-Wan said as he moved past Anakin. “We call ourselves Philosophers of the Jedi Order. I call it PoJo. It’s kind of a fancy name for such a small group, but Master Yoda’s the sponsor. He’s got a thing for weird names.” He moved easily down the thin aisle to his seat by the door. Qui-Gon followed him closely. 

Something had twitched in Anakin’s mind when he heard the name. It sounded strange on his tongue and vaguely familiar. “Jedi?” 

Padme smiled. “We’re named after the famous order of philosopher-warriors in early galactic history. You know, the ones who claimed to use the Force to solve the galaxy’s problems.” 

“Oh, yeah, the Force.” They had named themselves after a bunch of crazies? Anakin remembered hearing about them, a brief mention in his history textbooks on Tatooine. He hadn’t paid the closest attention to be honest. Much more time was spent on the podracer doodles in his notebook. 

“We’d love to have you drop in,” Padme said, staring up at him, her large brown eyes bright and so, so warm. He wanted to swim in them. That was impossible, but he wanted to try. 

“I’ll see what I can do with my schedule,” he promised her, his mouth going dry at the corners. With his heart pumping fast, he fled back to his desk and buried his nose in his textbook when Padme sat down across from him. 

Unseen by the students, Master Yoda’s wizened smile broadened across his ancient face.


	5. In Over His Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin attends his last class of the day and runs into a familiar face

Padme stayed behind to discuss the next club meeting with Master Yoda, and Anakin trudged out into the hall to locate his last class of the day. The hallway seemed a little more dim, a little less lively without his new friends. _One more class,_ he told himself, _and you won’t have to worry about any more surprises._

Someone slithered out into the hall behind him and caught up. It was Sate, the thin boy who had challenged Obi-Wan earlier. Anakin gritted his teeth. Not very many people gave him bad vibes, but this one sure did. “Hey,” he grunted, not wanting to seem rude or start a conversation.

Sate smiled, an unpleasant sight. “I think we may have gotten off to a bad start. I’m Sate Pestage.” He stuck out a thin hand as they walked.

It looked greasy, and Anakin barely hid his grimace when their hands touched. “I’m Anakin Skywalker.”

“You’re completely new to Coruscant, aren’t you?” Sate asked.

Anakin fought a sudden surge of embarrassment. “I guess you could tell.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. If you want to learn your way around, feel free to ask. It’s a big city-planet.”

The laugh that followed was only slightly forced. _Why is he being nice to me?_ Anakin thought. Sate didn’t look like someone to be nice simply because it was the right thing to do, but the other boy was waiting expectantly for an answer. “Um, thanks for your offer. I’ve made a few new friends who are gonna help me out.”

Sate raised both eyebrows. “Be careful around here when making friends, Skywalker. Some of these people only want to use you for your abilities. Coruscant isn’t your old home planet.”

_And what do you want from me?_ Anakin thought and bobbed his head. “Sure thing, thanks for the heads-up.” He wanted it clear that he was fine on his own, even if he was lying. …Because he was.

Sate nodded and split away from him, disappearing into the stream of motley students that flowed down the halls at a high rate of speed. Anakin, jostled and unsettled, managed to locate his flimsiplast map that the secretary had given him before school started. He glanced down at the document as he walked, juggling it and his books between the sharp shoulders and slimy tentacles of his peers.    

Health Culture was the class Anakin was dreading. He had read the course description half a dozen times to confirm what his eyes were telling him. Nutrition, exercise, and reproductive science and safety. Joys…He desperately hoped that Padme and the others had different classes. He wouldn’t even be able to look in her direction if she didn’t.

He found the room on the opposite side of the main campus complex, a good five minute trek filled with hundreds of determined students. The room was designed like a science lab and seminar combination, and the self-sealing door zipped open at his approach. Most of the other students were already there, filling the room in from the back up to the front, which still had multiple seats.

Anakin spotted one in the center right side, and he started for it immediately. Before he could reach it, a student his same height stepped into his path with a wide grin.  

Anakin paused in the center of the aisle. He tried to gauge the other boy without staring. If this was a confrontation, his armful of books put him at a distinct disadvantage.  

“Welcome to Cross-Species Pollination 101,” the tall, square-jawed human thrust out his hand. “I’m Kinman Doriana.”

Anakin took it cautiously, balancing his books against his other arm, but he panicked for a short moment when he realized he might be in the wrong place. “You mean this isn’t Health Culture?”

Kinman burst into laughter and turned to one of his friends in the next aisle over, thin brown hair flipping over one mischievous eye. “Ol’ Ki’s gonna have a fun time with this one.”

Anakin tensed, sensing a cruel undertone to Kinman’s jovial boom.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” a soft voice came from directly behind him, and Anakin turned to find Palpatine casually perched on the edge of a close desk. Stars, where had he come from so suddenly? Anakin swallowed and tried to smile. The Naboo boy didn’t smile back. In fact, he appeared to be openly studying Anakin. Anakin’s curiosity had been burning for the better part of the day, and so he took the chance to study him right back.

In the full light of the classroom, he could see the older boy’s hair was brilliantly red and slightly shaggy like his own blond curls. Palpatine’s skin was pale, and a line of fading freckles lay directly across his high cheekbones and the aquiline nose that was far too big for his narrow face, like he hadn’t yet grown into it. His robes were v-collar, trim-cut dark blue, almost black, except for a piping of green along the edges of the lining. He looked…rich.    

Palpatine was both thinner and smaller than Anakin, but his presence made up for his lack of physical intimidation. Kinman quickly turned serious and tried to explain, “I was just joking around, Palpatine. He’s a big guy. He looked like he could take it.”

Palpatine’s eyes shifted to the nervous boy, weighed him, and then shifted right back to Anakin in a clear signal of dismissal. “Pardon my friend, he lacks an appreciation of the more subtle things in life.”

Anakin watched the chastened Kinman slinking toward the back of the room and couldn’t resist a small laugh and a jibe of his own. “Like being an ass to total strangers?”

Palpatine’s eyebrows raised higher, but he made no other motion to indicate he heard Anakin. Instantly, Anakin felt embarrassed for swearing. The older boy probably thought he was an uneducated idiot now. He became aware that his cheeks were burning. 

“Something like that,” Palpatine finally replied. His thin lips twitched with either a smile or a frown.

Was he going to introduce himself or not? Anakin squirmed for a second before he decided. Their short meeting in the hallway in the morning simply wouldn’t cut it. This was it. He tried to smile again. “I’m Anakin Skywalker.”

Pale blue eyes flicked to someone behind Anakin and back. “Palpatine.”

_That’s it?_ Anakin wanted to ask, but he didn’t dare. Was there a first name? Or was that his first name?

Anakin thought desperately for something else to keep the conversation going, but the class door swished open once more, and the teacher strode through. He was a species Anakin had never seen before, with a brain case that stretched twice as far a human being’s. Not a Muun though, because he was roughly the same height as Anakin was, had a long white beard and mustache, and his skin looked almost human.

Palpatine moved, sliding off the desk and brushing past Anakin on his way to the front. “Cerean,” he drawled in a tone barely above a whisper as he passed. “Don’t antagonize him. He’s already been shoe-horned into teaching this joke of a class.”

“What?” Anakin stammered. “How do you know that?” _And how did you know I wanted to know that?_

But the older boy was past him, making his way to one of the front row seats and slipping into it without another word. Anakin stared at the front row. The intimidating, teacher-range, front row. Then he glanced at Palpatine, who sat with his back to him, not turning around, pulling out his datapad. Ignoring him.

But somehow, Anakin knew he wasn’t. He took a deep breath and advanced down the aisle until he reached the seat directly to Palpatine’s right. As he slid into it and dropped his books on the desk, he waited until the teacher passed between them before daring a look at his new…friend? Not really. Not at all if he were completely honest.

What was that fancy word his teacher last year always used? Oh yeah, acquaintance.

Palpatine looked up and met his curious gaze. Nothing showed in his expression, but still… The class hadn’t even started, and Anakin already felt like he had passed a test of some sort. He grinned.

Palpatine looked away.


End file.
